


Cracked

by live_love_draw_anime



Series: Nursery Rhymes [6]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Demons, Gen, Oreshi vs Bokushi, madness and insanity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-30 21:16:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6441109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/live_love_draw_anime/pseuds/live_love_draw_anime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>He knew, right there and then. There was something—someone—within. A presence feeding parasitically off his host of a body, only contained by eggshell thin skin.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And already, cracks had begun to form.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cracked

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh the long awaited final part! (For whoever is still keeping up with this series)
> 
> I could list a lot of excuses as to why this part took so long but you probably don't wanna hear them :)

He first heard it when his mother died. It was nothing more than a whisper, a feathery breeze in the deep recesses of his mind.

But he heard it.

Quick, sharp inhale. Soft, breathy exhale that stretched for an unnaturally long time. Oh, how it made his hair stand on end, goosebumps pucker on his skin, heart skip several beats.

He knew, right there and then. There was something— _someone_ —within. A presence feeding parasitically off his host of a body, only contained by eggshell thin skin.

And already, cracks had begun to form.

.

.

.

_Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall_

.

.

.

The large, hulking shadow of the hitman, now turned target, quivered in the corner of an elegantly furnished room. Moonlight streamed in from drawn-back drapes, illuminating the man as he lifted his trembling hands in a poor attempt to shield himself. Pungent fear radiated from his being, tinging the air with a heavy, metallic scent.

A second figure stood in the doorway to the Akashi Mansion office, eyes wide and glinting in the silvery, ethereal glow. Gold and crimson clashed violently, dropping the temperature to subzero levels.

Yet another person lay crumpled at his feet, a dark substance pooling beneath his lifeless form. The second figure, his face shrouded by yawning shadows, knelt to lay a pale hand over his forehead.

"Cold," he murmured. "So very, very cold."

The man in the corner whimpered, his quaking form pathetically contrasting the icy exterior of the other.

Silently, the figure slowly rose from the corpse, directing his glowing irises towards the cowering shape. "The man who killed my father," he began conversationally, though his eyes seemed to widen even further and his lips parted in an eerie grin.

When he next spoke, his tone was spiked with sadism. _"Found you."_

"P-please," the man begged, "This is a mere misunderstanding, I..."

"There is nothing to debate here," the other cut him off sharply. "I personally have no attachment to my father, but..."

The man glanced up hopefully.

"...but," he continued, stepping into the moonlit portion of the room to reveal shocking red hair and deathly white skin. "He was the only thing keeping the authorities from taking me away. Couldn't taint the Akashi name, you see."

"Th-the authorities?" The man stuttered out. "Why..."

"Why?" The redhead echoed, his expression condescending. A smirk slowly worked its way across his mouth. "Because of this."

The man watched with horror and apprehensive curiosity as he reached deep into his tailored clothing, withdrawing something long and sharp and glinting. A dawning look of terror crossed his features as its identity became clear.

Gold and crimson eyes glowed and a pale face twisted mercilessly as he stepped forward.

_"Scream."_

And he did.

.

.

.

_"—did you hear?"_

_"—two people dead—"_

_"—psychotic boy—"_

_"—blood everywhere—"_

.

.

.

With his father gone and he himself deemed unfit to take over the company, the Akashi name crumbled. The corporation collapsed and the once revered as well as feared surname was reduced to nothing more than a disturbing tale of madness and murder.

Akashi found himself mildly displeased. He had truly wanted to take over the business once his father had passed, lusting after the power and fame the position offered.

But his parasitic demon seemed to have other ideas; the night of his father's death also marked an unfortunate slip of control. Akashi usually managed to keep his conniving double from surfacing, yet the level of irritation towards the insufferable hitman who'd caused him so much trouble had apparently been been enough to allow the demon to take over.

"Look at what you've done," Akashi sighed. He sat in his new room, eyeing the drab gray walls and plain bedspread with disgust. "The Institute? This is a place for lunatics, not future business executives such as myself."

_"How is this my fault?"_ His demon replied snarkily. _"Didn't this happen because you were weak? You couldn't prevent me from emerging."_

Akashi growled. "There are times when I truly despise you."

_"There are times?"_ The parasite repeated, and he could feel the quiver in his belly as the being shook with laughter. _"Are you implying that you don't always hate me?"_

Akashi remained quiet. His stomach twitched again of its own accord.

_"You should,"_ it continued. _"Always fear me. I cause bad luck, you know. Disease, anger, pain...death. When I surface, expect the worst."_

The redhead snorted, running a hand through his hair. "I have nothing to fear. I am absolute."

_"Are you?"_ The demon grinned. _"If you are, then so am I."_

Akashi's eyes narrowed. "You submit to me. Not the other way around. Yes, there are times when we share the same sentiments, but in the end, you are mine."

This time, he clutched his gut as the demon roared with laughter. _"Dear boy, that's where you're mistaken. I am you, or at least a part. Who's to say you haven't created me yourself?"_

Akashi snarled, clenching his fists. "Then as your creator, I assert my authority."

_"You do, do you?"_ The demon asked in delight. _"Well, past experience says otherwise, does it not?"_

"Tch," he grumbled in response. "It will not happen again. We will maintain a mutual relationship."

_"Mmm,"_ the demon hummed in singsong amusement. _"We'll see."_

.

.

.

Mayuzumi Chihiro stood outside the door, his face pale and expression sickly. Slowly, he withdrew his ear from the crack, his hands falling to hang limply at his aides.

He refused to hear a second more of the Akashi heir's lone conversation. For some reason—some odd reason, his chilling voice struck a deep, instinctual fear within that sent involuntary shivers down his spine.

It was as if he changed voices throughout his speech; one moment, he upheld a firm, derisive tone, and the next, something that could only be described as the sound of _death_ slid like slippery steel from his throat.

Shuddering, Mayuzumi tore his gaze from the door and walked hurriedly towards the director's office, praying desperately for a patient switch.

.

.

.

"Your move."

Akashi inclined his chin towards his lime-haired companion, setting his shogi piece down on the playing board with a clack.

Midorima stared down, perplexed. He pushed his glasses up his nose, deep in thought as he contemplated his next decision.

Akashi waited in patient scrutiny, already analyzing his opponent's possible choices. His red eyes glinted in the late afternoon sun shining through the open window in the lounge. It may have been a simple trick of the light, but his left iris seemed to shimmer with the same fierceness as the streaming sunlight.

The latter carefully placed his shogi piece down. Akashi's eyebrow lifted just barely. He hadn't expected Shintaro to take that particular route. This, he thought, giving a slight nod of satisfaction, was why he appreciated Shintaro's company over anyone else. The bespectacled boy was the only one who provided some sort of challenge and unpredictability.

But, Akashi smiled smugly, sliding his own piece forward, it was still not enough to defeat him. He peered up at the boy sitting opposite to him, a knowing smirk written across his features.

Midorima's brow furrowed as he took in his abrupt loss. "Hmph. It seems you've won again, Akashi."

"So I have," the redhead replied, folding his hands neatly over his lap. "Thank you for entertaining me."

Midorima scowled but decided against answering back. Brushing his clothes, he stiffly rose to his feet, giving Akashi a small nod. "Very well."

Akashi watched as the green-haired male exited the room, sending one last slightly miffed look over his shoulder. He chuckled softly as the door closed behind him. "Shintaro..."

_"You take interest in him, don't you?"_

Akashi rolled his eyes, knowing his demon would see it. "Of course not," he scoffed. "However, one cannot lie that it is undesirable to be alone without company. He is merely the most suitable."

The being clicked its tongue. _"You know that's not what I mean."_

"Oh?" Akashi inquired airily. "Do explain."

_"He intrigues you,"_ the demon murmured, and Akashi could see his sly grin. _"Because...he's quite a lot like you. Or perhaps, he reflects who you might have been had I not existed. And for that, you envy him."_

"Pitiful," Akashi snarled, his voice dripping with scorn. "You are truly pitiful. As if your petty existence could ever make me envy someone as crazed as Shintaro."

_"Tsk tsk,"_ the demon chided him. _"You can't hide a single thing from me. I **am** you." _ It sighed, shaking its head. Akashi felt his own head turn in sync. _"It saddens me that I must continuously remind you of that fact. I have access to your every thought, every action...you and I share the same body. There is no escaping that."_

Akashi could feel himself trembling. "I am _absolute,"_ he hissed, lips twisting in unabated rage. _"Don't_ undermine me."

The demon threw back its head and laughed, golden eye flashing. _"Then don't forget,"_ it whispered, its voice echoing around in his head. _"Of what I bring."_

And with that, it lapsed into silence, leaving Akashi to ponder over its cryptic message.

.

.

.

_"Tell me, demon, what do you bring?"_

.

.

.

"I'm sorry," Takao apologized hurriedly, his arms supporting precarious stacks of heavy papers. "But Shin-chan's not doing so well today. He needs rest."

"I simply wish to play a game of shogi," Akashi entreated. "Surely that won't be too much physical exertion on his part?"

"Sorry, sorry," Takao mumbled distractedly, struggling to keep a grip on the fluttering sheets. "He really shouldn't have any visitors."

Akashi scowled, causing Takao to freeze. The black-haired boy rubbed the back of his neck, grinning nervously as the papers swayed back and forth. "Ahh...you understand, right?"

The red-head felt a twinge of annoyance, but brushed it off with small sigh. "Yes, it is imperative that Shintaro regains his full health. About how long will he take to recover?"

"R-recover...?" For some reason Takao refused to meet his gaze. "Well, that depends I guess..." He cast him one last shifty glance before rushing off with his tower of papers, calling back that he'd squeeze in some time to talk to him later.

_"Ha."_

"What is so funny to you?" Akashi snapped, his mood fouled.

_"Hmm...what indeed,"_ the demon replied snidely, its tongue curling around each word like sinister black velvet. _"I wonder..."_

"What have you done?" Akashi questioned, his temper rising. "I _command_ you to tell me!"

All he could hear was the whispery laughter of the demon as the breathy sound echoed round about his skull.

.

.

.

_Humpty Dumpty had a great fall_

.

.

.

Try as he might, Akashi could not figure out why their connection was only one-way. His demon had full access to his thoughts, his actions, his voice. However, it seemed that a wall was thrown up between them, barricading the demon's functions from being purged by his own.

He wouldn't be provided any insight from that parasite either. When Akashi had interrogated it, all he received in answer was a condescending, _you're smart, aren't you?_ and a round of mocking laughter.

He spent the next few days lethargically versing himself in shogi and staring out the window as he waited impatiently for Shintaro to recover. His demon grew restless, initiating conversations more often than Akashi would care to say.

It was on one such day that the demon, bored with watching leaves flutter aimlessly to the ground, slipped a remark that caused Akashi to snap to attention.

_"You've been pestering me an awful lot about our connection lately, haven't you."_

Akashi caught his breath but kept his expression impassive. "Hardly. If anything, you've been the one chattering nonstop."

The demon waved its hand in mild annoyance. _"The empty hours have to be filled with something, don't they?"_

Akashi grunted. "What's your point in bringing that up now?"

_"I figured I might as well tell you,"_ the demon began, a mischievous glimmer reflected in its golden eye. _"Though I'm disappointed you haven't realized it yet. It's quite obvious."_

Akashi sat up straighter, ignoring the insult. "Well?"

_"Hmm..."_ The demon lingered on the syllable, teasingly drawing out the suspense. _"The reason you think you can't access me is because you already do."_

Akashi scowled, a slow creeping dread spreading down his spine. "What are you talking about?"

_"Come now, I've given you so many hints already!"_ The demon snapped, betraying its irritation. _"Haven't I told you? I am you. We are part of each other...like a split conscious, perhaps, that a 'single being' controls. Some people call it the ego. You are both the 'single being' as well as the embodiment of the both of us. Really, it boils down to a very simple concept..."_ The demon smirked. _"You've been in absolute control of me this entire time. I've just been having a little too much fun hiding that fact."_

It was as though someone had dunked his body in a bucket of ice. Akashi fought to keep his voice steady. "You're lying. You've done or said things I haven't wanted you to. I...I would never commit any of your actions." His mind flashed back to _that_ night. There had been blood. Too much blood.

He was cruel, he was callous, but he would never murder someone in cold blood.

Never.

_"Oh, but you would,"_ his demon crooned, hissing into his ear. _"Because you did. You, Akashi. Not 'me'..."_

Akashi grit his teeth, his hands clenched over his ears. "Be quiet."

_"I would,"_ the demon laughed. _"If you'd let me. Aren't you absolute?"_

Akashi let out a muffled growl. "Shut up."

_"Deep down,"_ the being continued. _"You want this. You allow this. You **are** this."_

"I'm _not!"_ Akashi shouted. "I'm not like you! Get out of my head!"

The demon cackled with glee. _"Fool! You're cursing yourself! How do you expect to run away from you?"_

Akashi curled up on the floor, clutching his head as the demon's raucous laughter shrieked and howled. He was not the same as that creature. He could not be! He wouldn't accept it! He wouldn't!

But deep down, he felt a part of his soul smile, intrigued. He felt it warm pleasantly to this piece of news, satisfaction bubbling at learning that he'd been in control throughout all of it, like the absolute ruler he was. Deep down, he was pleased.

But Akashi shoved that feeling away, storing it in the far reaches of his mind where he hoped it would be ultimately forgotten.

(He didn't realize that was where his demon lived.)

.

.

.

_All the king's horses and all the king's men_

.

.

.

"It's good to see you back in full health, Shintaro," Akashi commented as they sat cross legged on the tatami mats in the lounge. The shogi board was arranged neatly between them.

The green-haired boy blinked at him, a somewhat vacant expression in his emerald eyes. "Yes..."

Akashi frowned, a crimson eyebrow raised. "Are you alright?"

"Hmm...?" Midorima shook his head, the dazed look quickly fading. "Ah, I'm fine. There was just...a small revelation I happened to uncover recently."

"Care to share?" Akashi pressed further. "I'm willing to listen."

_"Or maybe you're just nosy,"_ his demon whispered softly so that Midorima would not notice. _"Don't play at being empathetic. It doesn't suit you."_

_Shut up,_  Akashi thought in reply.

"It's nothing," Midorima mumbled. "I just...forgot who Takao was for the first time."

Akashi sat back. That was news. Midorima always had problems with his memories, but he'd never let go of a memory pertaining to Takao. Those two shared a peculiar bond, one that Akashi might have been interested in picking apart had he not been dealing with his own demons, quite literally. "What was the revelation?"

Midorima shot him a look that would have made anyone else back down. Akashi merely tucked his hands beneath his chin and waited.

The bespectacled boy sighed. "It's rather private, Akashi. I'd prefer to keep it to myself."

Akashi sat patiently.

Midorima let out a small huff of exasperation. "I'm going to die."

His demon snickered.

Akashi blinked. "What?"

_"Whoops,"_ the demon whispered. _"Forgot to mention that."_

"Mention what?" Midorima narrowed his eyes. "Akashi, are you conversing with yourself again?"

Akashi quickly hushed his demon, though he would certainly question it later. "Shintaro, what are you saying?"

The boy closed his eyes, rubbing his temple as though pained. "I have a disease," he said shortly. "A fatal one that was discovered a while back. However, I was not informed until recently."

Something was pricking Akashi, prodding him to ask a question he might fear the answer to. "When did the doctors...discover this disease?"

Midorima frowned, pushing his glasses up his nose. He seemed uncomfortable. "Around the time you arrived."

He froze, horror slowly bubbling up inside him as his demon surged forth.

_"Disease, anger, pain...death. When I surface...expect the worst!!!"_

Akashi felt his left eye flash gold, his demon gaining momentum as panic overtook him. He hurriedly clapped his hand over the glowing iris.

Midorima looked up, startled by his sudden change in demeanor. "Akashi...?"

He was already on his feet, hurrying from the room.

.

.

.

_"You'll kill everyone around you, you know?"_

.

.

.

"I'll kill you," Akashi hissed, slamming the door to his room in a crazed frenzy. "I'll tear you out from the root!"

His demon was seeping through his pores at this point, exuding a dark, dangerous aura. _"Too laaaaaate,"_ it crooned, cold breath sending shivers down his spine. _"I'm already ouuuuut!!! And I must say, thank you for succumbing to me!"_

Agonizing pain suddenly split Akashi's skull, his breath catching in his throat. "What—what are you doing?!"

_"Making the transition,"_ his demon smiled placidly. _"You've handed the reins over to this part of the ego. I'm the 'single being' in control now."_

"What are you talking about?" Akashi gasped, his eyes watering as the pain grew. "I never did anything—"

The demon cackled savagely, and Akashi caught a glimpse of himself in his mirror. His lips were pulled back in a grotesque combination of his own pained expression and the demon's hideous grin, his face contorted and pale, golden eye glinting with ferocious hunger.

With a desperate yell, he thrust his fists forward, shattering the glass in shining droplets that cut through his skin, crimson raindrops following their descent to the ground. He dropped to his hands and knees, disregarding the shards that dug into his palms or the fire shooting through his body. A weak cry escaped him, a last desperate attempt to retain himself, or at least who he believed himself to be.

Even that was cut cruelly short by pounding fists on the door and a sharp voice demanding to be let in. Akashi ignored them, a numbing sensation spreading through his limbs and core and mind. It was as if he was receding, his consciousness being locked away in suffocating darkness.

He tried to speak, to call out hoarsely for his demon to stop, but all that escaped was a dark, velvety, "Come in."

A key jangled from outside and the door was thrown open. Mayuzumi Chihiro stood in the doorway, his gray hair clashing with his wan, pale face. "What are you doing?! Get up off the floor, you're bleeding!"

Akashi felt his facial muscles pull back in a genial smile. "Ah, I'm fine. Just a bit of glass." He rose to his feet, methodically digging under his skin to pull out large shards. Blood spurted from the open cuts and Mayuzumi's face grew ever whiter.

"Stop that," the gray-haired man ordered without much conviction. "Follow me to the infirmary. The doctors will remove it the proper way."

Akashi complied, giving him a sharp nod. "Very well. Tsk...I must be more careful next time."

Mayuzumi frowned. "Yes. Please refrain from breaking anymore mirrors."

The redhead smirked, his words carrying a much heavier meaning than Mayuzumi's interpretation. "That weak part of me..." He continued. "Has been in control far too long. I must take the necessary measures to keep him restrained."

Mayuzumi blinked. "What do you..." He drifted off as something suddenly caught his attention. "Akashi, your eye..."

"Yes?" The red-head inquired, amused. "What about it?"

Mayuzumi opened his mouth and closed it. "Never mind. Come on, that's a lot of blood."

Akashi hummed in acknowledgment, following the older male from the room.

The mirror shards on the floor glimmered, catching the reflection of his piercing gold iris.

.

.

.

Akashi watched as Midorima was carried out of his room, shrouded in a white sheet. He felt something tugging at him; perhaps the old shell of himself he'd long since conquered. Frowning, he suppressed the feeling, his steely gaze cold as the body being taken away.

He was avoided now at all costs by everyone but Mayuzumi. The gray haired man had been weary at first, but he slowly came to ignore Akashi's obvious transformation, addressing him in his typically bland manner.

As much as people stayed away, not a single person questioned him about Midorima's death. Kise had sobbed for about an hour before promptly forgetting about it, Aomine and Momoi had long since left The Institute, and Murasakibara couldn't care less. The rest of the workers attributed it to natural causes and went about their business.

Akashi himself supposed the only thing he might regret would be the loss of his shogi partner. It was tiresome to play only himself day after day, but he supposed Mayuzumi could learn.

As the body disappeared down the hall, the rest of the workers in tow, Akashi found himself alone. He paused by Midorima's doorway, the contents of the room plain and detached. With a quiet scoff, he continued on to his own.

His room was virtually the same as Midorima's aside from the fact that his mirror had yet to be replaced. He stared at the gray wall where it had once hung, the faint outline in the plaster the only telltale sign that it had been there at all.

Akashi let out a small exhale, turning to leave once again, only to be halted by a sharp stabbing sensation in his foot. He sucked in his breath between his teeth, kneeling down to investigate the source. A small shard of glass was embedded in his skin, missed by the crew who'd swept the broken mirror away. He pulled it out gingerly, blood oozing from the shallow cut, a deep, red velvety color that clashed with his golden eye reflected back at him from the glass, and—

Akashi stood quickly, tucking the irreparable piece into his pocket to be disposed of later. A fragment could not be substituted for a mirror; it was an utterly useless object. For in the end, a broken shard was a mere fraction.

It could never be whole.  
.

.

.

_Couldn't put Humpty together again._

.

.

.

_Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,_

_Humpty Dumpty had a great fall;_

_All the king's horses and all the king's men_

_Couldn't put Humpty together again._

**Author's Note:**

> If this confused you, don't worry. You're not alone. I was confused just writing this thing. But anyway...
> 
> This concludes the series 'Nursery Rhymes'! Thanks to my consistent readers, especially those whose comments inspired and motivated me to actually finish it!


End file.
